


Choose Wisely

by justheretobreakthings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt No Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretobreakthings/pseuds/justheretobreakthings
Summary: “Each one of you knows all that we need to know about the lions and Voltron. We don’t need to waste our time getting answers out of all of you. We only need one. One paladin, and we’ll be able to extract all the answers we need.” He smiled, a grotesque pointy-toothed grin that stretched too wide for his face. “If we can focus all of our… persuasion methods on just one of your paladins, it will be so much more efficient for all of us."So, tell me, leader of Voltron. Which paladin will it be?”





	Choose Wisely

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://heartlesslywhumping.tumblr.com/post/181236219560) prompt by heartlesslywhumping on tumblr.

 Shiro was the first to wake up in the dim, dank prison cell on Trokeli, blinking groggily and failing to hold back a groan as his head spun. He shut his eyes again to steady himself, and he tried to shift his posture, only to be met with the metallic clanking of chains at his feet and a weight on his neck cutting off his air.

Immediately his eyes flew open and he hurried to shift back, the weight at his neck thankfully easing as the short length of chain attaching the metal around it to the wall behind him got some slack again. The shackle on his neck was matched by two more, he discovered as the world came into focus - one binding his ankles and the other his wrists, each with no more than a foot of give between them.

And he wasn’t alone, he realized as his eyes continued to adjust. Pidge was collapsed against the same wall to his left, shackled just as he was, close but still too far away for him to reach her and check her condition. The wall opposite him was bare but for a solid and closed metal door, but Lance and Hunk looked to be chained to the wall on his right, and Keith to the wall on his left. They all at least appeared to be breathing, as far as Shiro could tell; none of their faces were discolored the way they would be if they were being deprived of oxygen. So at least whoever had dumped them there had taken the time to ensure that they weren’t strangled by the chains around their necks.

How considerate, Shiro thought bitterly.

Still didn’t make the situation anywhere near ideal.

The sound of rattling chains echoed throughout the cell, and Shiro turned to see yellow armor stirring against the far wall. Hunk let out a long, low groan as he returned to the waking world, his eyes slowly opening and blinking woozily around the room. “Wha’ - wha’s goin’…?” he slurred out.

“Morning, Hunk,” Shiro said softly.

“Wh’appened?”

“Seems they got the jump on us.”

Hunk frowned and looked down at the shackles on his wrists, tugging them experimentally. “They…” he said slowly. “The Trokelians?”

With a sigh, Shiro nodded. “Bingo.”

Shiro had known - he had  _known_  - that there was something off about the Trokelians. When they had landed their Lions and he had greeted the aliens that they had saved from what appeared to be a fringe Galra raiding party, the leaders of the city below had had questions, of course; they always did. But their questions weren’t about what Voltron was fighting for or its history or what could be gained by allying with them or why they had come to help. No, they had been more interested in how the Lions flew, how they came together, what weapons they were equipped with, how their bayards worked.

Most of that information was either the type of thing that Shiro wouldn’t want to share freely with aliens they’d only just met - secret weapons, after all, lost a bit of their edge if they were no longer secret - or were details that Shiro simply didn’t know, but the Trokelians had far pressed past the point of politeness.

The aliens had offered to treat the paladins to a meal, but Shiro had declined their offer and ushered the other paladins away, not sure he trusted any food or drink that the Trokelians would set before them. Probably had been the correct call, but unfortunately, the aliens and their own security force were not yet finished with the paladins.

And tranquilizer darts were much more difficult to dodge than food.

It was only a small consolation that Allura and Coran surely would have noticed that something was amiss when it took them this long to return to the castle. No doubt that they were taking actions to recover their paladins. For now, then, they just had to sit tight and assess the current situation until they were able to mount a rescue. Or, of course, until they managed to escape on their own.

Shiro sighed again, testing the chain that kept him collared to the wall. It seemed to be about the same length as those shackling his hands and his ankles. Solid, too, and heavy. He reached up his human hand to feel the collar, and his fingers brushed against the tiny grooves of whatever locking mechanism was in place. He doubted he’d be able to pick it, and a quick test of his Galra hand proved that whatever they had cuffed him with also nullified the heat from his prosthetic, so melting the links of the chain was a bust too. It seemed that escaping on their own may prove… difficult.

It was natural that he and Hunk were the first to wake from the tranquilizers, being the two with the most body mass, but it did mean that they had to wait impatiently for the others to wake as well. Lance finally came to in what Shiro guessed was about another ten dobashes, and began babbling questions the moment he was able to take in the situation. Shiro was still answering them when Keith woke on the other side of the room soon after. The red paladin had no audible reaction, just stared down at the chains on his wrists and ankles for a moment before his face fell into an irritated glare.

Pidge was just returning to wakefulness when the loud metallic clunk of a large bolt being unlatched sounded from the cell door, and the paladins whipped their heads toward it as one. A well-armored Trokelian entered the room, oversized orange eyes bulging out against the scaly gray that stretched over his bulky frame, swiveling to each of the paladins in turn. “Oh, good,” he said, voice low and gravely. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, no thanks to whatever your buddies out there shot us with,” said Lance. “A real fine way to say thank you.”

The orange eyes swiveled toward him. “If you paladins had been cooperative and answered our questions, it would not have been necessary.”

“The questions you were asking,” Shiro said with a deep scowl, “Were no business of yours to ask. The inner workings of the Lions and Voltron are ancient and complex and - more importantly - confidential. And your people have given us no reason to trust you with any weapons we could,  _in theory_ , provide. In fact - ” He lifted his wrists the let the chain dangle between them, “ - You’ve given us plenty of reason  _not_  to.”

The Trokelian frowned. “Are you attempting to tell me, paladin, that Trokeli is in some way…  _undeserving_  of this knowledge? You have the right to powerful weapons that could level a town in a single blow, but we don’t? How is that at all fair?”

“Uh, maybe because we actually  _don’t_  use Voltron to destroy cities?” Hunk said.

“If that’s what you’d want to do with the Lions’ tech,” said Lance, “Then you’re only making your own case worse for yourself, buddy.”

“I don’t need to make my case to any of you,” the Trokelian said calmly.

“You do if you actually expect us to share information with you,” said Shiro.

“No, no.” The alien stepped toward Shiro, eyes fixed on him. “We already tried words alone, and you refused to cooperate. Clearly, you are not up to debating this.”

“You’re right.”

“So we’ve no choice but to acquire answers by force.”

There was a beat of silence as the others stared at the Trokelian. “Um,” said Lance, “What do you - ?”

“People tend to be more willing to share when they’re in pain,” the Trokelian said, way too nonchalantly. “The more volts coursing through their body, or the more skin that has been torn off, or the more bones have been snapped… the more eager a person is to share.”

Shiro’s lip curled in a snarl despite the dread pooling in his stomach. “You’re not gonna get a word out of us,” he said.

“Hmm. You’re the pilot of the Black Lion, correct?” the Trokelian said, leaning down to look Shiro in the eye. “I suppose that makes you the leader.”

Shiro didn’t answer, and instead glared at the Trokelian and focused on keeping his breathing steady. Beside him Pidge fidgeted, the links of her shackles jingling, and at the other wall he could see Keith tensing. Even at a distance the way his jaw set and nostrils flared was clear.

The Trokelian didn’t seem to need an answer from him, though, since he continued as if Shiro had simply agreed. “So that also makes you the decision maker of the team, doesn’t it?” Still Shiro said nothing, and the alien straightened up. “All right, leader. It’s your job to make tough choices. Why don’t we see how well you can do your job?”

Shiro took a steadying breath before growling, “What do you mean?”

“Each one of you knows all that we need to know about the lions and Voltron. We don’t need to waste our time getting answers out of all of you. We only need one. One paladin, and we’ll be able to extract all the answers we need.” He smiled, a grotesque pointy-toothed grin that stretched too wide for his face. “If we can focus all of our… persuasion methods on just one of your paladins, it will be so much more efficient for all of us.

"So, tell me, leader of Voltron. Which paladin will it be?”

“Me,” Shiro answered without hesitation. The others seemed to have expected that response; the expressions they sent his way the moment the Trokelian had laid out his rules made it clear that they were fearing for him, specifically. But he’d be damned if he let any of his teammates get tortured in his place. “You want to interrogate someone, pick me. Now let’s get this - ”

“Ah, ah, ah,” the Trokelian said, holding up a hand to cut Shiro off. “I won’t accept that. The team needs their leader, don’t they? I would hate to deprive them of their Black Paladin.” He leaned forward again, eyes boring into Shiro’s. “Pick another.”

“Go to hell,” Shiro growled.

The Trokelian clicked his tongue. “So rude. Here I am offering you a generous deal, and you turn your nose up at me.”

“You can take your generous deal and shove it up your ass!” Lance suddenly spoke up.

“Lance,” Shiro said warningly.

“Hey, someone has to be the one to say it! This is just sick and you know it!”

The Trokelian’s expression didn’t change as he turned to Lance and slowly approached him. “I must admit,” he said, “I didn’t expect that one of you would already be so talkative.” His arm shot out suddenly, and in the blink of an eye Lance’s chin was in his grasp, his thick nails digging into the skin around his jaw. “What do you think, Black Paladin?” he asked, forcefully turning Lance’s head to face Shiro and ignoring the grunt of discomfort he let out. “Want to make my staff’s job easier on them? Pick the chatty one?”

“Let go of him,” Shiro said, his voice soft, cold, dangerous.

Not dangerous enough for the alien to do more than raise a brow, though, as he released Lance and stepped further down the wall. “No? All right. You’ve got other options. How about you, Yellow?”

Hunk’s eyes widened as the Trokelian turned to him, and he shrank against the wall as much as his large frame would allow, eyes darting over to Shiro. The alien let out a dry laugh. “What’s this, now? The brave paladin is frightened of a couple of questions?” He tutted, shaking his head. “Sad. I would have expected a bit more stoicism. What say you, Black Paladin? Want me to take the weak link out of your hands for you?”

“Hunk?” Shiro said, ignoring the Trokelian to focus on the paladin. “Hunk, it’s all right, don’t worry. He won’t lay a finger on you.”

“So is that a no?”

“Of course it’s a goddamn no!”

“Hmm.” The alien tilted his head at Hunk. “Admittedly, I may have been a bit hasty to declare him the weak link. He  _does_  have some muscle on him.” His eyes roved over toward Pidge. “You, on the other hand… well, you’re practically just a baby, aren’t you?”

Pidged bared her teeth as the Trokelian moved toward her. “You take one more fucking step and I swear, I will castrate you,” she snarled.

The alien just laughed and leaned in toward her. Pidge shot out a shackled hand, aiming for one of the bulging orange eyes, but the Trokelian caught both her hands in one of his easily. With the other he placed a single finger beneath her chin to tilt her head back, laughing again as she snapped her teeth. “Oh, this one’s feisty,” he said, turning to Shiro. “How about it? Want to let me have some fun with your little one?”

“Not on your life.”

The Trokelian sighed and released Pidge, leaning out of reach as she tried to swipe at him. “In that case, I guess there’s only one option left.” Ever so slowly he turned toward Keith. “Hello, Red Paladin.”

A growl escaped Shiro’s throat as the alien approached Keith, and the Trokelian paused at the sound, glancing back toward him. “Something wrong, Black Paladin?”

“Stay away from him,” Shiro snapped.

“No, I don’t think I will.” He reached Keith and immediately wrapped a hand in the latter’s hair, tilted his defiant, fiery-eyed face toward him. “I believe you’re the only one whose voice I haven’t heard yet. Got nothing to say, or just giving me a challenge?” Keith only response was a thinning of his lips, and the Trokelian chuckled. “A challenge, then. How fun.”

“Let. Go. Of. Him.”

The wide smile was back as the alien turned back to Shiro, yanking Keith’s hair with him, and Keith let out a tiny choked gasp as the chain attached to collar around his neck went taut. “You have a bit of a soft spot for this one, don’t you, Black Paladin? I can see it in your face.”

“No,” Shiro said quickly.

“Oh?” The Trokelian released Keith’s hair, but Keith had only a fraction of a second of relief before his right wrist was seized in a vice grip and the Trokelian lifted his hand up toward him. He turned Keith’s pale hand over in his, the fingers of his other hand ghosting over them as he examined the digits. “In that case, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind - ” He pinched Keith’s pinky between his own fingers, “ - if I do this.”

He bent the pinky back and squeezed his grip, and there was a sharp snap, probably no louder that a twig cracking, but with the sudden gasp of pain Keith let out and the instant pallor on his face, it rang in Shiro’s ears like a gunshot. Vaguely he could hear exclamations of protest from the other paladins, but the Trokelian kept his eyes only on Shiro.

“Ouch,” he said, and although he kept his expression neutral, Shiro could hear the smirk in the word. “Tell you what, Black Paladin. Since you seem to be having so much trouble making your choice, I’ll give you some incentive. Pick a paladin, and I’ll leave your little friend’s fingers alone. Continue to stall…” A little yelp escaped Keith before he managed to bite down on his lip as his ring finger was shattered with a sickening crunch. “And I’ll do what I please.”

Shiro clenched his teeth, eyes darting back and forth between Keith and the alien holding his wrist. Keith’s breaths were heavy, the breastplate of his red armor moving up and down in time with them, and his face was chalk-white. Still, he looked up at Shiro with a fiery expression that the older paladin couldn’t quite read.

“Keith, it’s all right,” he said. “It’s okay, just hang in - ”

Another crack, Keith broke his gaze with Shiro as he let out a strangled gasp, his middle finger now bent in ways it was never meant to bend. But he locked eyes with Shiro again, his own dewey with pain, and grunted out, “ _Shiro_.”

“It’ll be okay, Keith,” Shiro said, conviction replaced with desperation. “It’ll be…”

He trailed off as he finally realized what Keith’s determined expression was saying.

Immediately he shook his head. No. Hell, no. He was not going to select Keith to be dragged off and tortured for information.

His index finger was next to go, and one of the other paladins was shouting something and rattling their chains - Hunk, he thought vaguely - and Keith let out another cry of pain, but once again he found Shiro’s gaze, and he met it with an even more determined one than before.

_No_ , Shiro mouthed. Now was not the time for him to be a self-sacrificing idiot.

_Do it_ , Keith mouthed back, before the Trokelian broke his thumb and he arched his back and yelled in pain.

The alien moved on to Keith’s left hand, letting the right dangle, and Shiro felt nauseated at the sight of the swollen, blackening fingers, all dangling at grotesque and unnatural angles. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he would have to select one of the other paladins eventually - Keith only had so many fingers, and who knew what the Trokelian would do next - but still,  _Keith_ …

Keith would be furious with him if he dared to let any of the other paladins get hurt, he admitted to himself, wincing against the strangled cry Keith let out as he left pinky broke.

That didn’t mean it was a choice he wanted to make, though, and he tried to silently communicate that to Keith, explain through his expression alone that he didn’t want to send Keith off to whatever interrogators Trokeli had lined up and could Keith  _please_  refrain from playing hero and launching himself into danger on a whim, the way he always seemed so wont to do.

The steadfast determination that Keith kept on his face through his pained tears even as he ring and middle fingers were crushed, though, told Shiro that the message hadn’t gotten through.

Instead he simply croaked out a desperate, “Shiro,” before it was replaced by a whimper as the Trokelian snapped the bones of his index finger. Shiro opened his mouth, but sound was lost somewhere deep in his throat.

“I have to say,” the Trokelian said, lightly and airily as if he wasn’t in the middle of breaking the bones of a teenager gasping and whimpering in pain at his feet, “You hold up quite well, Black Paladin. I’m impressed. Annoyed, yes, but impressed too.” He pulled Keith’s left thumb back, farther and farther, until it snapped too, and finally, finally, he dropped Keith’s wrist, and immediately Keith collapsed to the floor. “Well, there’s still time for you to make a decision.” His eyes settled on Pidge. “Three more paladins to go, thirty more fingers…”

“Shiro!” Keith shouted, lifting his head, eyes shining, blazing, with desperation. “Shiro,  _do it!_ ”

_“Fine!”_

It took Shiro a moment to realize he’d been the one to shout that, but… he didn’t have a choice. Keith wanted Shiro to pick him. He wanted to be the one to do this. And if Shiro didn’t make his choice now, the Trokelian was going to hurt Pidge, and then Lance and Hunk…

And he didn’t want to pick Keith, didn’t want to one bit, but Keith would never forgive him if he let one of the other paladins get tortured in his stead.

So he took a shaky breath and, head hanging in defeat, said, “Fine. Fine. I pick Keith.”

“Keith?” the Trokelian repeated. The others were silent. Maybe just too stunned to speak. “Which one is - ?”

“The red one,” Shiro growled. “I pick him. Just… just take him.”

There was another tick of silence, and Shiro slowly lifted his head to see the Trokelian flashing him that hideous, toothy grin. “See, Black Paladin,” he said. “That wasn’t so hard.”

He turned back to Keith, and Shiro let his head drop again, not wanting to watch. But he could still hear Keith’s grunts of pain, and the other paladins’ cries of protest. And the clinking of his shackles, and the way the rattling from the chains moved across the room as Keith was dragged out.

And, finally, the door of the cell slamming shut behind them.


End file.
